File spoon-archives/surrealist.archive/surrealist_1996/96-08-21.184, message 15


Date: Tue, 2 Jul 1996 17:58:45 +1000
From: lpellen-AT-enternet.com.au (Luke Pellen)
Subject: Re: A SHORT WALK 


After downing a pot of espresso I venture forth into the world,
caffeine-enriched, and begin to stroll amidst the grey and the blue - the
yellow disk is still hiding. 

Serene hum of distant lawnmowers and passing traffic, with ingenious
counterpoint provided by the occassional dog. Suspended plastic bags. To the
south, houses piled high, up to the volcanic rim.

Walk down a steep incline - and turn.

Suburban houses sunk into trenches; debris: vacuum cleaners, petrols cans,
matresses, crates, bottles, blankets. From out of nowhere, the pungent smell
of dog shit. A car passes.

Circumnavigate the park; nothing of note but a lone graffiti-stained
building in the center - a shrine? no, the public toilets.

Turn again, Suttontown Road. Stroll past the seventh day adventist church -
doublesided sign, as I approach it reads "Jesus, the way, the truth, the
life", as I pass it the other side reads, "God has forgiven, are you
forgiven?" - there is a large hand pointing accussingly, in the manner of
Uncle Sam, as if to say "God needs YOU!". Tragic or comic?

I can see the mount [Mt. Gambier], surrounded by trees, topped by an ancient
tower; a beacon at night, shining out above the mist, winking.

Another turn; the edge of town, rustic monuments. White-wash houses, peeling
paint, rusted iron, gates, chimneys. Here and there are vacant spots,
disconcerting gaps. Stacks of bricks. I sweat beneath my jacket, the sun is
burning bright through a hole in the sky.

I pass a small park I have never seen before and, right on my last
instruction, reach a dead end. How strangely appropriate.


Luke.





   

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